Lithium
by FromMadelinesPen
Summary: Draco plays the unlikely hero in Harry's unraveling life. DM/HP slash. Warnings: Language, Drug abuse and sexual content.
1. Let Me Go

_Prologue_

Draco Malfoy strode through the dark streets of Muggle London, hands fisted tightly by his sides, grey eyes sparking and jaw set. He was angry and frustrated; two emotions that he did not cope well with. He had tried and tried to ignore the goings on of one Harry James Potter but it had proven futile. He had waited in vain for someone else to step in and do what he could not bring himself to do, but he could not idly stand by any longer and watch as the once confident young man slowly self-destructed.

People ducked their heads and averted their eyes as Draco swept past them; he posed an impressive figure with his tall stature, stormy eyes and black winter coat billowing out behind him.

The gold numbers on the side of the white brick building matched the numbers scrawled on the scrap of parchment in his pocket. He pushed through the front door to the residential building and strode straight for the stairs. He was in no mood for the lift.

Draco was breathing a little more heavily as he wrenched open the grey door with the painted number four on it and exited into the internal hallway. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared with renewed anger as he whipped up the long hallway. He was angry that The Boy Who Lived had forced his hand this way, and he was angry at himself for caring.

A quick glance at the small elegant plaque beside each door frame indicated in which direction he was headed next. The building was deceptive in its wrapping; a refined external façade which belied the struggles within, a place where the upper crust hid away so that they could pursue a high that was neither high nor long enough.

The blond wizard halted outside door number four hundred and seven and, without hesitation, rapped sharply on its glossy white exterior.

A man with bleary eyes and mussed up brown hair pulled back the door a crack and squinted out at him. "Yeah?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I'd like to speak to Harry Potter."

The young man blinked, hazel eyes gazing at Draco suspiciously. "Who are you?"

Draco sighed and withdrew his wand. Before the other man had time to react, Draco had swiftly knocked him flat with a succinct _Petrificus Totalus_.

Draco stepped over his immobile body, pulling the door shut behind him, and walked into the spacious lounge room. He kept his wand at the ready in his right hand, unsure of the reception he would receive from any other lurking strangers – as well as from Potter himself. Scarhead might not be too pleased to see him.

Draco's lip curled disdainfully at the prone figure of a pretty young woman passed out on the white leather couch, a mirror sitting on the glass table in front of her with two untouched lines of white powder.

He continued his search. The flat was not enormous but it was very tastefully decorated; lots of white and glass and sparkle everywhere. Surprisingly it was fairly clean and tidy as well, not the smashed wreckage that Draco had been anticipating.

Draco wandered up the short hallway, peering into the bedrooms as he went. The first two were empty, save for a calico cat dozing in the warm sun on the windowsill, and the third bedroom housed a sleeping, half-naked Harry Potter sprawled across the unmade king-sized bed.

Draco took a steadying breath and quietly entered the room, wand at the ready. He sat down on the plush white cushions of the window-seat, observing his sleeping companion with a sharp eye.

"Potter." He spoke distinctly into the quiet stillness of the room.

Harry's pale face scrunched in annoyance at the intrusion of sound and he sluggishly moved one arm to cover his closed eyes.

"Harry Potter." Draco tried again, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "Wake up. You have a visitor."

"Huh…?" Harry's arm slid down off of his face and one eye opened a crack, trying to focus on where the sound was coming from.

Draco frowned at Harry's enlarged pupil and disoriented gaze. The Slytherin stood and quietly crouched next to the bed so as to be at eye-level with Harry. "Do you know me?" he asked.

Harry's other eye opened and he blinked listlessly, still not focusing on Draco's face, green blood-shot eyes continually roving around the room in confusion.

Draco straightened and shook his head, once again pocketing his wand. Potter was no threat to him in this state.

Harry blinked a few more times in bewilderment before allowing his eyes to fall closed once more.

With a heavy sigh, Draco wrapped one hand around Harry's forearm. Gripping tightly, he quickly apparated them away from the bright sun-filled room and out of Muggle London.


	2. I Want to Stay in Love With My Sorrow

Draco strode crisply up the long white hallway, a wooden breakfast tray in his hands laden with a small meal of scrambled eggs, whole wheat toast with butter, two maple sausage links and a plastic cup of freshly squeezed orange juice. The plate and utensils were also made of a soft durable plastic.

He rapped smartly on the door near the end of the hallway and deposited his wand into the container attached to the wall before turning the knob.

The heavy door opened into a small bright bedroom. The walls were painted a soothing pale green and the floors were made of an expensive greyish-brown hardwood. The long thick curtains were drawn but the sunshine was trying to peek in around every corner, casting cheery beams into the depths of the room. The only furniture in the bedroom was a single wooden chair and a double bed in the centre adorned with plush white linen and soft pillows. Lying spread-eagled in the middle of the bed, arms and legs tied to the bedposts, was a very pissed-off looking Harry Potter.

Draco smirked a little as he walked over and set the tray down on the chair before turning to his new house guest. "How are you feeling?"

Harry's eyes widened in outrage as he tried to splutter out a coherent response. "Wh- How…. What the fuck are you doing to me Malfoy?!"

"I am treating you," Draco replied calmly, linking his hands together behind his back and gazing down at Harry.

"Treating me? What do you mean treating me?" Harry demanded. "Untie me you sick bastard!"

Draco sighed and moved the tray to the edge of the bed before seating himself in the chair. "Why would I do that Potter? So that you can go straight back to the incredible life you were leading?"

"What the fuck do you care?" Harry seethed, his hands clenching and unclenching within the confines of the leather wrist straps.

"Quite frankly, I don't," Draco replied. "But I do like a challenge, and you will be quite the challenge I dare say."

Harry's face turned red with fury. "I'm not your bleeding science project Malfoy! You're holding me against my will, you can't do this!"

Harry pulled on the arm straps with all his might, and then when that didn't work he shook them roughly, all the while his face getting redder and redder.

Draco leaned back in his chair with a smirk, crossing his ankle over his knee and watching in silent amusement.

Harry stopped fighting and collapsed back into the pillows, eyes closed, breathing heavily.

"The bindings are magically secured Potter, so I really wouldn't waste my energy if I were you."

Harry's hands clenched angrily but he remained quiet.

"Now, if you're ready to listen I'll explain," Draco started in a business-like manner.

"What do you want from me?" Harry interrupted dully, eyes still shut, voice scratchy from shouting.

Draco paused thoughtfully. "I want you to become a functioning member of society once more, perhaps even something more. As much as I am loathed to admit it, you had a great deal of potential in school; you're magical ability was astounding and you're bravery and loyalty were commendable – although highly annoying."

"You sound just like Snape." Harry opened his eyes and turned to look at him. "And what the fuck do you get out of it? Do you want money?"

Draco smirked. "No Potter, I don't want your money."

Harry's blood-shot eyes narrowed at him. "I thought that was why you disappeared; you'd squandered all of your father's money."

"That's the rumour," Draco answered in amusement. He lifted his hand and, with a flick of his wrist, the drapes flew open, exposing a vast expanse of green manicured lawns, rows of deep green coloured hedges and meandering garden pathways as far as the eye could see.

Harry's gaze flicked to the view and quickly back to Draco. "So you don't need money. You're just a sick twisted fuck then."

Draco frowned. "That is quite the potty mouth you have on you now, Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry's jaw clenched angrily.

"Tell me, how did you go from promising Auror student to drop-kick drug addict?" Draco asked bluntly.

Harry's eyes blazed with fury and Draco felt another round of screaming obscenities coming his way.

"Fuck you Malfoy, you're one to talk; a Death Eater's son and vile servant to Voldemort from birth. How the fuck do you get off being so high and mighty?"

"I grew up and decided to make my own choices," Draco replied smoothly. "I've changed. And apparently so have you – but not for the better."

"_You've_ changed for the better?! You sick fuck, you've tied me up against my will, who knows what kind of perverse experiments you're planning to do to me!"

Draco chuckled, which only served to infuriate Harry further.

"Are you laughing at me Malfoy? You _are_ sick. Everyone knows you're a fucking faggot!"

Draco stopped laughing and looked down at Harry pityingly. "Oh Potter, how the mighty have fallen." He stood and indicated the breakfast tray. "If you're hungry and feeling cooperative then I shall give you breakfast, otherwise I think you need some time alone to adjust to your new situation."

"Don't you leave me here!" Harry cried, voice tinged with panic.

"Do you want some food?"

Harry paused. "Are you going to untie me so that I can eat?"

Draco shook his head. "Sorry, you can't be trusted yet Potter."

Harry screamed in sheer frustration and shook the bed roughly, sending the food tray crashing to the floor and spilling his breakfast.

Draco sighed and cleaned the mess with a flick of his wrist. "I'll return later to check on you Potter. Do try to accept the situation; it will be a lot easier on both of us."

Draco exited the room as Harry continued to yell and fight his restraints behind him. He shut the door and leaned against it for a moment, Harry's outraged voice now muffled.

Draco plucked his wand from the glass container and pushed off, rubbing his temple as he walked down the hallway towards his study to make some notes. He could feel a headache building already.

"What did you expect?" he muttered to himself. "It's Harry bloody Potter you're dealing with."


	3. Don't Make Me Sleep Alone

Draco paused outside Harry's door and pressed one ear to the cool surface, listening closely. It appeared that the Gryffindor had tired himself out and was no longer screaming obscenities at Draco - and at the world in general.

Draco deposited his wand into the glass cylinder attached to the wall. He was taking every precaution with Harry; no wands in the same room, a magical dampening spell surrounding Harry's room at all times that was keyed into Harry's magical signature, as well as a magical alarm that would sound if any physical harm came to his patient. That last one was imperative once Harry was allowed to be in the room unbound and able to inflict bodily harm on himself.

Draco knocked on the door and then turned the knob.

Harry was still lying tied up on the bed, his head turned towards the window.

Draco walked over to his usual chair and sat down. "Hungry yet Potter?"

Harry's gaze flicked to his face, considering. "Yes," he replied after a moment.

"Good." Draco nodded in satisfaction and opened the covered dish he had brought with him. Inside was a steaming mound of rice and vegetable korma with cashews and creamy coconut milk sauce.

"Now," Draco said as he picked up the plastic utensils. "I am going to untie your wrists so that you may feed yourself. I hope I can trust you to not do anything stupid Potter."

Harry merely nodded in understanding and licked his lips at the heavenly aroma wafting his way.

Draco lifted one hand and the leather straps binding Harry's wrists fell away.

Harry cautiously pushed himself up into a sitting position, eyes trained on the delicious looking meal in Draco's hand. It had been some time since he had eaten anything, considering that he'd sabotaged his breakfast this morning.

Draco placed the cardboard carton into Harry's outstretched hands and sat back, watching as Harry eagerly dug into the food. He knew this calm cooperative act of Harry's was just for show, he knew that beneath that cool exterior lay a very desperate and angry addict, but he would enjoy this "eye of the hurricane" moment while it lasted.

"How are you feeling?" Draco enquired.

Harry swallowed and looked up. "Much better."

Draco forced a small smile and nodded. "No cravings then?"

"Not really," Harry said around a mouthful of food. "Just hungry."

Draco pressed his lips together and gazed at Harry thoughtfully.

"Another day or two of this and I think I could manage on my own," he continued confidently.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to keep you a bit longer than that."

Harry swirled his plastic fork in the rice and sauce, eyes on his plate. "How long?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Twelve months."

Harry's head shot up; eyes wide and face paling. "Twelve… A _year_? You want to keep me here for a year?!"

"Depends entirely on you and your progress, but yes, generally I keep patients here for about one year."

Harry gaped open-mouthed. "But… How can you do this? This isn't legal Malfoy! You can't fucking kidnap me and hold me hostage for a fucking year!"

"And there's that delightful language again," Draco observed derisively.

"Fuck you!" Harry picked up his meal and threw it towards Draco's haughty face.

Draco didn't move as the meal flew through the air before suddenly hitting an invisible barrier surrounding him and rebounded back towards Harry, splattering the remainder of the food all over him.

Harry looked up, furious.

"Did you really think that I would untie you and just let you have free access to me?" Draco asked calmly. "Give me a little credit Potter. You've hated me for a very long time, and now that I've 'kidnapped you,' that hate must be intensified a thousand times over. I know part of that emotion is just whatever drug cocktail you've ingested leaving your system, but I also know that this situation must make you furious beyond belief. And for what it's worth," he continued sincerely. "I am sorry that it has to be like this, and that it's me that has to do it."

"Let. Me. Go," Harry seethed through clenched teeth.

"I'm afraid not."

Harry visibly attempted to regain control of his emotions. "What if I'm cooperative and do everything you ask of me?"

Draco sighed and linked his hands together in his lap. "It must be a _true_ recovery Potter. There's no lying and there's no 'faking it.' For you to truly get better and get back on the right track then it must be real."

"I won't fucking heal with you around Malfoy," Harry spat.

"There's no other choice," Draco replied simply. "I waited for one of your friends to step in but it turns out you don't have any."

Harry took a steadying breath. "You know, you're a lousy fucking therapist Malfoy. Do you insult all of your patients?"

Draco smirked. "No, just you Potter."

Harry fisted the sheets in his hands, and Draco could see the anger returning. "Isn't there some other hospital or program you could send me to so that _you_ don't have to deal with me?"

"There isn't one as thorough as I am," Draco answered frankly. "Most only last a few weeks and the patients end up back on the street and using."

"But why the fuck do you care? Are you doing this just to prove how much better your life turned out?"

Draco raised a brow. "Your words, not mine."

Harry's mouth gaped with outrage and Draco knew it was time to leave before the next string of profanities.

"Well, I shall leave you to consider everything I've said," Draco said as he stood and smoothed his trousers.

"Don't…" Harry bit off his panicked reaction and clamped his lips together.

Draco paused, he recognized that look. The Gryffindor was, for all intents and purposes, angry and indifferent on the outside but scared on the inside; scared of being alone with his own thoughts, scared of dealing with this reality that he hasn't had to deal with for so long.

"If you'd like for me to stay then I will," he offered.

Harry's eyes narrowed, the panic instantly buried beneath his resentment. "Fuck you Malfoy. I don't need your pity."

"Don't you?" Draco questioned. "I would think that at this stage you would actually welcome some pity Potter. Pity is what compels people to help you, pity is what will allow people to see past the pathetic drug-addicted man who made poor choices and ruined a perfect life that was handed to him on a golden platter."

Harry gazed at him icily. "What perfect life Malfoy? The life that started with murdered parents and a psychotic mad man who hunted him for all of his young life?"

Draco cocked his head to one side considering. "And yet, it wasn't until after you'd killed him that your life fell apart. Why? When you made it through the childhood that you've described only to lose it when you were finally free?"

Harry smirked. "You are _not_ my therapist Malfoy. I didn't hire you so I don't actually have to tell you shit."

Draco matched his smirk. "Have it your way Potter." He strode to the door and turned. "See you tomorrow, sleep well."

Draco shut the door on Harry's horrified expression with no small amount of satisfaction. As he walked to his office he berated himself a little for his childishness, he normally wasn't so petulant with his patients but he couldn't help it, Potter brought out this other side in him, just like when they were children.

Draco worked in his office until late. He finally leaned back in his desk chair and stretched his stiff neck, bones cracking from being in the one position for so long. With a weary sigh, he shut his books and stood up.

He made one last trip to Harry's room to check on him before he headed off to bed. He touched his hand to the smooth surface of the metal door and the material instantly shimmered and shifted into a two-way mirror. He had no wish to disturb his patient by opening the door if Harry had indeed managed to fall asleep.

Draco quickly assessed Harry at a glance and noted the extremely pale skin shining with perspiration, black hair damp around his face, thick strands sticking to his forehead and temples. Harry's eyes were open and staring blankly at the window which was too dark to actually see through at this time of the night. He could also detect the subtle shiver of Harry's body beneath the sheet. He looked like someone suffering from an intense bout of the flu but Draco knew better. This was Harry's drug-riddled body going into shock; the last remnant of the toxic substances leaving his system with no replacement in sight.

He knew this wasn't the hardest part of recovery but it felt like it. It was pure torture and he didn't take any pleasure in seeing Harry go through such hell now.

Draco removed his hand from the door and walked away after checking that all his security was still in place. There was nothing he could do to ease the pain for him right now, he just had to let it take its course and, hopefully, the next day would be easier on Potter. 

**. . . .**

Draco woke suddenly in the middle of the night. A red light was flashing in his room and the obnoxious sound of his warning alarm was echoing through the house. The alarm only sounded when of his patient's health was in jeopardy.

Since his only patient at the time was Harry, he leapt out of bed and sprinted straight for Potter's room.

He burst through the door to see Harry convulsing on the bed. He rushed over, releasing the binds on Harry's wrists and ankles as he went. He could see the problem as soon as he was close; Harry had vomited during the night and was choking as a result of his immobilisation. Draco instantly thrust his arms under Harry's back and turned him over so that his head was hanging over the side of the bed.

He patted Harry firmly on the back with one hand as he withdrew his wand and quickly uttered a spell that would force everything out of Harry's throat and mouth, clearing his airways.

Harry spluttered and choked as he tried desperately to take a breath in between heaving, large tears rolling down his cheeks at a steady stream and dripping onto the floor.

Draco remained holding onto him as the choking sounds slowly gave way to ragged breathing. Harry hung limply in his arms, too tired to hold himself up or to even protest Draco's close proximity.

Draco finally whispered a spell to clean up the mess at his feet before gently lifting Harry up and over onto his back. The brunette felt appallingly light, a sure sign that the young man had not been taking care of himself for quite some time.

Draco sat on the edge of the bed and watched his charge. Harry had his eyes closed and his chest was rising and falling quickly with shallow breaths that were slowly easing back to normal. He still had tears squeezing out from under those long black lashes and Draco felt sorry for him in that moment. Going through this was hard enough without having someone you hated seeing you at your worst.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Draco offered quietly, knowing that an honest approach was the right one in that moment.

Harry made no move to respond, his eyes still closed to the world.

"I know you probably don't feel like talking right now, but I just want to make sure that you're alright before I leave." Draco paused. "I have an alarm set up that will go off if you are in trouble, that's how I knew you were unwell, so there's no need to worry."

Harry's eyes flickered open and Draco winced at the pain reflected there. "Please…"

Draco leaned closer; trying to make out Harry's raspy whispering.

"…please….just…."

Draco sat back. He knew what Harry was asking for. "I'm sorry but I won't do it Potter."

Harry's eyes fell shut once more as he turned his head away despondently.

Draco's brows pulled together in concern. He'd treated so many wizards, and each and every one of them had gone through this stage of not wanting to go on, not willing to go through the pain and struggle of healing, but this one was different. This was the first person that he knew on a personal level. Knowing someone's past personality, before the drugs, definitely made it more difficult to remain detached. He knew this was not the real Harry Potter; he knew the real Potter was vivacious and loyal and kind. Knowing this and watching him now was affecting him in a way that he wasn't accustomed to. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he felt emotionally involved.

Draco took a deep breath and released it. "I know it's hard, I know giving up and just letting go of it all seems like the only solution right now but it's not. I can't promise you a perfect life when you make it through, or even an easy one, but I _can_ promise you that it will be better than it was and that it will be better than today."

Harry made no response but Draco knew he was listening when a fresh tear made its way down one pale cheek and disappeared into his pillow.

"And I can promise you that I will not give up on you Potter," he continued steadfastly. "No matter what happens and no matter how much you curse and throw things at me, I will still be here."


	4. Can't Break Free Until I Let it Go

Draco walked down the white corridor towards Harry's door and placed his hand upon the surface. He knew Harry had survived the night since his alarms had remained silent, but he was still concerned for the other man's mental well-being.

He peered through the two-way mirror to see Harry facing towards the window again, eyes open and staring.

Draco took a deep breath, mentally preparing for whatever was going to happen on the other side of the door that morning. He deposited his wand into the glass container before rapping sharply on the outside of the door. He waited a moment before entering the room and walking over to sit in the empty bedside chair. Harry's eyes tracked his every movement, and Draco noted the familiar glint of anger glaring back at him.

"How are you feeling this morning Potter?" he broached carefully.

"You mean after you tried to fucking kill me last night?" Harry demanded loudly, his voice echoing off of the walls in the small room.

Draco sat back in his chair, gazing at him calmly. Harry obviously still felt safer reverting to anger. "How is that Potter?"

Harry's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets in his rage. "I couldn't fucking move so I nearly choked to death!"

Draco crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded him carefully. "And how would you have dealt with the situation had you been in my shoes Potter?" he asked, keeping his tone calm and composed.

"I wouldn't be in your shoes _Malfoy_," Harry replied scathingly, "because I wouldn't be trying to save your worthless Death Eater life!"

Draco smiled in amusement. "Glad to see that the scope of your insults hasn't changed in five years Potter. And we both know that that's not true, you _have_ saved my life on occasion."

"Don't think I don't regret it Malfoy."

Draco managed to ignore the impulse to roll his eyes and decided to try a different tack. "The only way to safely begin your healing process is to keep you restrained so that you cannot harm yourself and thus render my efforts futile."

"You just don't want me to die because it'll affect your bloody statistics."

"No," Draco replied, looking directly into Harry's emerald eyes with intensity. "I don't want you to die because I don't want you to die."

Harry was the first one to break eye contact and Draco noted that the other seemed to squirm under such frank emotions. He stored this information away as being perhaps the most useful way to deal with the Gryffindor.

"Now, if you're ready to begin, I'm sure you have lots of questions for me," Draco continued proficiently. "What would you like to know?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and seemed to be considering the question. "When can I get out of this fucking bed?" he finally decided to ask, a threatening undertone to his voice.

"Today."

Harry blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting that answer, and Draco could literally see Harry's brain suddenly working away, quite obviously trying to think of ways to escape from Draco the first chance he got. The thought of escape eased the tension in Harry's expression a little and prompted him to continue with his line of questioning in a more compliant manner.

"What are you going to do to me today?"

Draco decided to allow Harry to think that he had any chance of escape for now. "For the first few weeks, all I wish to accomplish is to allow the drugs to fully leave your system and have your physical state return to normal."

"So… do you keep any bennies here then?" Harry asked, using one of many known street names for amphetamines.

"And why would you think I kept that on-hand?"

"So you can wean your patients off of it slowly," Harry answered as though speaking to a child. The idea of escape was obviously filling him with a bit of adrenaline and causing him to be more conversational.

Draco shook his head. "No Potter, I do not keep any drugs on hand to feed to my patients."

"Shame, you look like you could use a hit," Harry replied with a smirk.

Draco swallowed and shifted in his chair, he could see a familiar hunger growing in Harry's eyes and he wanted to change topics straight away. Talking about Harry's favourite drugs and how great they made him feel was not going to be beneficial for either of them.

"So Potter, I thought today we could let you out for a walk around the grounds," he said.

"On my own?" Harry asked optimistically.

"I shall accompany you."

"Fantastic," Harry muttered, eyes shifting to look out the window.

Draco stood up, causing Harry's gaze to instantly switch back to his face. "Are you ready then Potter?"

"Now?"

Draco frowned at the flash of panic in his patient's eyes. He had assumed that Harry couldn't wait to get out and attempt his great escape. "Yes, unless you wish to wait until later, or perhaps tomorrow?"

Harry swallowed and shook his head back and forth on the pillow, his thick dark hair getting more and more matted. "No."

Draco nodded. "Right then, hold still and I'll release the bindings."

Draco lifted a hand and the soft leather cuffs encasing Harry's wrists and ankles carefully unstrapped by themselves and fell away. Harry rubbed at his wrists before slowly using his hands to push himself into a sitting position.

Draco watched him closely, noting the effort in which it took Harry to sit up. It was obvious he was still quite weak and posed no threat of running away. As long as Draco kept the magical dampening spell on him, he shouldn't lose him outdoors.

"Do you need a hand?" Draco asked as Harry carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed and let his feet touch the ground.

"No don't touch me," Harry immediately responded without looking up.

Draco nodded and took a step back. "Perhaps a walking stick?" he suggested.

"Fuck you Malfoy," Harry said breathlessly as he tried to stand, his legs shaking slightly beneath him.

"Such a martyr," Draco uttered without malice as he walked to the door and turned, waiting for his patient.

Harry was standing upright but his legs were shaking so badly that he couldn't seem to take a step. "Maybe if you fucking fed me something then I wouldn't be about to pass out Malfoy," he spat, the venom in his tone overridden by his obvious embarrassment.

Draco plucked his wand from the container outside of the door and conjured a sturdy walking stick which levitated over to Harry's side.

Harry shot him a lethal glare but grabbed a hold of the cane none-the-less.

Draco stood back and waited patiently as Harry slowly hobbled his way to the door and peered out into the hallway. Harry gazed around before dropping his eyes to the wand in Draco's hand.

"Do you have my wand somewhere Malfoy?" he asked.

"No, it wasn't on you when I picked you up so I'm afraid I'm not aware of its present location."

Harry frowned but turned away, looking up the long hallway. "Which way?"

"To the right," Draco replied, indicating the direction in which Harry was looking.

Without a backward glance, Harry began to shuffle up the corridor as fast as he could – which was at a snail's pace.

Draco discreetly uttered a few spells, flicking his wand towards Harry, before joining him and walking along at Harry's pace.

Draco led him up the corridor to the lift and pushed the button for the first floor. They rode down in silence and Harry obediently followed Draco into the foyer and up to the large front doors. The brunette was breathing heavily by now but looked determined.

Draco grabbed two warm cloaks from the coat rack and wordlessly passed one over to Harry. Harry seemed to hesitate in defiance but then acquiesced, leaning his cane against the door before slipping his arms into the warm wool covering, Draco mirroring him at his side without comment.

"Ready?" Draco finally asked when it looked as though Harry was done.

Harry nodded, eyes on the large wooden door in front of them.

Draco placed his palm on the panel beside the door, which was keyed into his touch only, and the door swung open with a whoosh, a cool breeze instantly brushing across their faces.

Draco stepped out into the crisp air and Harry followed. He led him down the walkway towards the vast gardens on the western side of the house.

They walked in silence for a long time. Draco finally stopped and motioned to a stone bench near the coy pond. Harry was breathing quite heavily by this time and he wanted his patient to take a rest, and hopefully open up to him a little.

They both sat and gazed out over the beautiful gardens bursting with autumn colour.

"I know you put some spell on me Malfoy, before we left," Harry said, breaking the stretching silence.

"And I know that you know," Draco replied, turning towards him as Harry continued to stare off into the distance.

"What was it?"

"Just a couple of protection spells to keep you within the grounds and to keep you from harming yourself in any way," Draco explained, watching him closely.

"I was going to run away you know," Harry admitted tonelessly. "But I don't think running is in the cards today."

"Perhaps tomorrow," Draco suggested with a small smile that Harry didn't return.

Harry finally turned towards him. "Am I the only one here?"

"Yes." Draco nodded, and then elaborated. "I usually treat several patients at once, sometimes being in a small group of people going through the same thing can aid the healing process, but I didn't picture you as the group therapy sort Potter. Especially seeing as how I forced you here, I didn't think you would be very cooperative to start with."

Harry turned away without a response, looking back over the grounds laid out before him.

"I know what you're thinking," Draco continued. "That you won't ever cooperate with me or my methods, but I am positive that there will come a time that you _do_ cooperate and are grateful for my help."

Other than a snort of derision, Harry remained silent.

Draco looked over towards the coy pond; grey eyes watching the large golden fish cut gracefully through the water at the bottom of the round pool.

"You couldn't possibly know what I'm thinking."

Draco turned at the softly spoken words.

"Maybe you've treated hundreds of people who perhaps all have the same symptoms and the same emotional outbursts but you don't know what it's actually _like_," Harry continued with quiet intensity.

"Maybe I don't know what it's like to be Harry Potter with a drug addiction but I know what it's like to be Draco Malfoy with a drug addiction."

Harry's head snapped round to stare at him in surprise.

"That's how I got into this profession in the first place," Draco explained openly. "I fell into substance abuse to escape the memories of my past and to dull any feelings instead of dealing with them head on. If it wasn't for Severus – Professor Snape – I would probably be dead."

Harry's brows rose to his hairline, appearing taken aback by Draco's confession.

"Professor Snape owned this estate before me," Draco explained. "He treated patients here in addition to conducting training for young wizards of Voldemort supporters orphaned by his brief period back in power. He took me under his wing and out of the gutter and then left me the place to continue on after he decided to retire a year ago. The orphaned students now attend Hogwarts and I purely treat substance abuse patients now."

Harry appeared to be at a loss for words and so he turned away once more, a frown marring his pale forehead.

"Harry…"

"Don't call me that," Harry cut across him sharply.

"I call all my patients by their first name so I don't wish to treat you any differently." Draco had decided that by calling Harry by his last name he was only distancing himself from him more.

Harry shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. "Who are you trying to be Malfoy? This isn't the real you," he said, sounding frustrated.

"I'm not trying to be anyone, this is the Draco Malfoy that went through hell and back and who no longer lives in the shadow of his parents or has to fear for his life every day. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the same person as I was in Hogwarts, and that's a good thing Harry."

"I said stop calling me that," Harry snapped, turning to him angrily. "I don't like you like this, I can't… I can't handle you like this!"

Draco sat back, watching Harry's reaction curiously. "Why is that?" He decided to leave off using the Gryffindor's first name so as not to antagonise him further. "Why can't you accept that I am the same snot-nosed little kid from school who is now trying to help you?"

"Because!" Harry exploded. "Because that snot-nosed kid was a fucking bully who tried to hurt me every chance he got! Whose father tried to _kill_ me every chance he got!"

"People change," Draco answered simply. "I'm not disputing everything you've said, I did use to be that boy, but not anymore. I've grown up and I've changed. As for my father's actions, well I can't be held liable for what he did or tried to do all those years ago. Besides, he's paying for it now."

"And I suppose you're repaying your debt by this goody two-shoes act?" Harry retorted.

"I admit I did stay on to help Professor Snape as a favour to him for all he'd done for me," Draco answered honestly. "But then I began to enjoy the work; it was hard and it was challenging but also immensely rewarding in a way I hadn't experienced before."

"You're lying."

Draco clamped down on the flash of irritation; here he was opening up to the other man and Harry was throwing it back in his face. He knew going into this that it was going to be a challenge and so he forced himself to remain calm. As he'd done before with Harry, he decided to change his approach.

"Remember back at Hogwarts when you would put your own life at risk to help another student? When you would run headfirst into a hazardous situation for someone else with little thought to your own safety?"

Harry ignored him but Draco could see that he was listening to every word.

"I hated you for that," the blond continued. "But I never questioned its authenticity. I knew it was coming from a place in you that was doing it to help a person in need and not for the glory of being a hero, not for the possible accolades that would be coming your way afterwards. You _actually_ cared. That is how I feel about the work I do here. I'll admit there is a small amount of self-satisfaction when a patient is ready for release back into society but for the most part I do it because I know how it feels to be finally free from addiction and I want others to experience the same thing. I thought the drugs freed me but I was so mistaken, they were just another form of imprisonment.

I am free from my parents, from my past, from a life that I didn't want and I'm free from addiction. It is a heady feeling Harry, one that I think you should experience for yourself. While some would say that our stories are very different, I would say that they run a very similar path – which both end here at this place."

Draco almost felt breathless as he finished his impassioned speech. Harry seemed to be absorbing everything in silence – or completely ignoring him – and Draco kept quiet, allowing the other man to think. He hoped some part of it connected with Harry on some level.

Just as Draco had given up that Harry had been listening to a word he'd said, the pensive brunette finally spoke.

"And what would I do after?"

Draco felt a flash of relief, if Harry was even remotely considering a life after his rehabilitation, then there was hope. "What do you want to do above all else?"

"Get high."

Draco turned towards him and smiled at the little smirk that was tugging at Harry's lips. "Besides that?"

Harry sighed and shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. "I don't really know…"

"That's alright," Draco replied easily, not wanting Harry to get anxious about future decisions before he was ready to handle it. "I can help you with that later, let's focus on your health first."

Harry still wasn't looking at him but the tension between them had definitely evaporated. "You sound twenty years older than me Malfoy."

Draco chuckled and shifted on the cold bench. "That's what happens when you spend every hour of every day for three years straight with only Snape for company."

Harry actually smiled a little at that one.

Draco thought it was a good time to stop and go back inside. "I don't know about you but I'm getting uncomfortable and a little hungry. Ready to go back in?"

Harry took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Yeah ok," he said after a moment.

And Draco knew he was saying yes to more than just whether he wanted to go back in for lunch or not.


End file.
